


The stars he loved

by ragdollrory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Identity Issues, Lotor Week 2020, M/M, past Lotor/Kuro - Freeform, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/pseuds/ragdollrory
Summary: “He once told me he liked looking at the stars.” Lotor’s voice pulled Shiro out of the trance, hands and feet climbing the cliff almost on autopilot. “I can’t tell if it’s the same for you, but who doesn’t enjoy them?” It seemed they were both having the same problems, and that made Shiro more sympathetic towards him. He could only imagine what this must feel like for the other man.
Relationships: Lotor/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23
Collections: Lotor Week 2020





	The stars he loved

**Author's Note:**

> A little note to thank my precious friend Ilia, whose Lotor has always been source of endless love and inspiration for my Shiro.
> 
> Also, a kiss to wonderful [Hiro](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero), who was supposed to read this as a means of enjoyment, and Beta'ed it instead. You're the best.

_ “Are you ready, human?” _

_ Human _ , Shiro sighed, was he even that anymore?

The planet Lotor had chosen was devoid of sentient life, barren but for the few trees, and cactus-like plants that were strewn across the sides of the dehydrated rivers and ponds. Shiro let his gaze travel across the span of what he could see, recalled the information pulled on his PADD about the place, and how it’d become decimated with the war.

It seemed fitting. It felt a little like him. A husk of what it used to be, trying to become once again. He felt his pulse quicken in his ears, making his head spin a little, and body sway.

“Human- Takashi, are you alright?”

Shiro blinked once, and once again, slower, and managed to get the prince’s face into focus. No, not prince, not anymore. He attempted a palliative smile at the new Galran Emperor, and knew right away the man was not buying it. There was veiled concern in the blue eyes staring back at him, and Shiro felt a pang of guilt at causing such feelings, when he was the cause of so much pain already.

“I’m fine,” he assured, “really. Just, a bit travel dizzy, perhaps?” A weak excuse for a pilot, but Lotor took it in stride, merely nodding in response, and only when he let go of Shiro’s arm, he realized the man had been touching him. It left a sparkling sensation travelling up to his neck.

“If you-” Lotor stopped, having seemingly regretted what he was going to say, tearing his gaze from Shiro, and turning back to the craft that had led them down there from the Atlas.

Shiro took a moment to stare at the silhouette the mountains cut against the horizon with a longing that didn’t quite belong to him. And yet it came from the center of his very chest.

“Ready, then?” The Emperor’s question pulled his attention to what he’d recovered from the ship.

“Hoverbikes?” He couldn’t have hidden the surprise and joy in his voice if he tried. Lotor seemed pleased with it, if the faint curl of his lips was of any indication.

“Surprised, scared?” There was a taunt in Lotor’s voice, in the way the drawl seemed laced with something else, and not quite for him. Not this him, at least. “Trust me?”

Did he, trust? Shiro would have to admit as much, even when it had earned him a couple of questioning looks from the rest of the team and crew members when they left just a moment ago. Still, there was something that had him on the edge today, a sense of foreboding that he couldn’t shake off, and he couldn’t pin into anything in particular either.

“This was your secret plan, then?” He broke his reverie to look at Lotor. Shiro didn’t know how he knew- or he did, actually- but he could trace out the hesitant excitement in the Emperor’s body. It loosened something inside, and he let himself enjoy this day for what it was. With whatever it brought him. 

“Come on, I wanna see how this thing fares up against the one I had back at the Garrison. And-” He put on the goggles, and secured them. “if we end up crashing that mountain, it’ll be your fault, and you’ll owe me a drink.” A chuckle shook his chest, and he gave Lotor a nudge on the shoulder, while stealing the sleeker of the two bikes, and hopping on.

Shiro suppressed a laugh at Lotor’s roll of eyes, expecting the prince not to understand it for the expression of joy, and just- freedom, that it was. No, he’d probably take it as an offense, and that would put an end to the ride. Or at least a damper on the whole experience.

Instead, he just started the bike, and smiled at the feeling of the wind against his face, the power of the bike under him. Right at that moment he had nothing to worry about but the sun setting on the horizon, and that was a feeling he’d not had in many years now. He’d cherish it to the last second.

He accelerated further, the planet’s landscape around them a blur of colors, unidentified sounds and smells rushing past. Shiro tried to take everything in. The bright leaves of the scarce plants, the way the sky seemed to be painted in brushstrokes of pinks and greens.

It was rare as of late, with everything that had walked into his life to turn it upside down, but he felt grateful to be alive. Even with the purple emperor teasing him into a race against the suns. Or especially then. He’d definitely missed driving outside of massive lions that assembled into a robot to save the universe.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” Shiro shouted over the wind, and the dust picking up around them. Not that he minded really, but he figured the prince had to have a plan after all.

“Impatient, are we human?” He countered, and seemingly unphased by the elements rebelling at their wake. Lotor took the lead then, making Shiro wonder if he’d picked the wrong bike. Left. Left, again, towards the biggest outcropping of stone in sight.

Patience. What a funny thing to ask of him, that had spent the better part of his life preaching it to the rest. He grunted out a reply and accelerated, desperate to push the threatening emotions from his mind with the cutting of the wind around them. Only listening to Lotor’s directions, and even then, trying to just grasp at the meaning of the sound, remove the tone, the voice from it. He feared he’d break otherwise.

Human, Lotor called him.

It had not been the first time, of course. That was probably his favorite nickname for all of them. Human, paladin, the colors of their suits, whatever he could use to pretend distance, distaste. He’d learned that. He’d learned that twice already, and then again not, and that was the issue, wasn’t it?

Shiro had memories- he had very vivid memories that weren’t his, about the prince calling him differently. He could hear him, if he allowed the walls keeping those moments contained to crumble. He could hear the way his name sounded from Lotor’s lips. Shiro could remember the taste from said lips as well, the smell of the spot where Lotor’s shoulder met the neck, and how his flesh was just a tad softer right under the collarbone. 

He pushed the bike to its limits. Those weren’t his memories, and he shouldn’t rely on them, much as he wanted it. That was the purpose of this trip, for him at least. Shiro understood Lotor needed to be able to trust him again, but he needed to understand why- He needed tangible, new memories of why Lotor had been so important to the other him. 

Shiro’s gut told him to trust Lotor, but he wanted to trust himself.

Probably much harsher than he should, Shiro stopped the bike, their destination just a couple of steps ahead. His hands gripped onto the handles so hard he wondered if he could ever let go.

“Do you feel like climbing?” Lotor asked, in a tone that was more command than interrogation. It left Shiro wondering just how many times had the man actually considered anyone’s response, and if it meant something that his shoulders were tense in the minute between Shiro dismounting from the bike and his nod.

The Emperor was turning around and up the cliff before Shiro finished taking the goggles off.

Lotor was as graceful in his movements up against the rock face, as he was while leading a meeting, and Shiro caught himself stalling just to stare on more than one occasion.

“You’re not going to fall, are you? I wouldn’t want anyone back on your ship to come for my head if I bring you back bruised up.” Another tease, this time accompanied by a knowing glint in Lotor’s eye that Shiro felt sparking through his body.

Shiro could joke back, maybe. Tell him Lotor ought to pick him back up if he fell, just like he’d done before. His mouth opened to do so, licking his lips after the harsh wind and the speed of the bike had left them dry. He felt the weight of the words on his tongue, tasted them for a fraction of a second, eyes on the man above.

“No need to worry about that.” Ultimately, Lotor turned, and Shiro decided against it. It had not turned all that well the first time around in the castle’s showers. The prince far too proud about his wounded ego, and Shiro completely flustered to function properly for hours to come. Except-

Except it hadn’t ended there, but in his cabin, later that same night. There was a warmth climbing up Shiro’s legs and arms that was certainly not the environment around them, but that of  _ his _ memories. A particular one that had kept him up more nights than he cared to admit, going over the bits of conversation he could call back, the gestures, the touches. Fingers tracing over the places where he could swear he felt the mark of those sharp teeth, and the trace of Lotor’s tongue.

“He once told me he liked looking at the stars.” Lotor’s voice pulled Shiro out of the trance, hands and feet climbing the cliff almost on autopilot. “I can’t tell if it’s the same for you, but who doesn’t enjoy them?” It seemed they were both having the same problems, and that made Shiro more sympathetic towards him. He could only imagine what this must feel like for the other man.

“I love them, yes.” He conceded with a much too emotional smile aimed to the rock in front of him. “I used to climb up my family’s home rooftop to look at the night sky whenever I had a bad day, or a really good one, or anything in between.”

It was not the first time Shiro wondered if it was all him inside, or if there were traces remaining of whoever the clone had been in his place as well. If that was why he felt so strongly about his alien companion sometimes, or if Lotor was just alluring like that, and he got to fall twice for his charms. 

“Of course there’s nothing quite like this back on Earth, but it was lovely nonetheless. Probably one of the few things I liked about my home was that it was in a small town, and the sky was not contaminated by city lights. I don’t-

“I can’t remember if he told you, so I’m sorry if you’re hearing this twice.” What a weird thing to do, to talk about this other him as if it were someone else entirely. To talk about the entity that had lived in the very body he was using to climb this rock, with the man said person had apparently loved.

Shiro reached the top just a couple of seconds before Lotor, and extended a hand to help him up. A surge of remorse had a corner of his lips tugging to a side. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” His hand didn’t let go of the prince’s.

“I’m used to outliving people. You need not to worry about it, Takashi.”

_ Takashi. _

Shiro’s breath stuttered, nearly everything around his name vanishing. Lotor’s words, even as they found their way into Shiro’s mind, and settled somewhere in there to analyse at one moment or another, moved out of focus. They blurred, distorted in the way one feels hazy and lost while trying to pick at the tendrils of a deja vu, his sole attention in that one word.

Three syllables, pronounced in a way he’d only heard in dreams and haunting memories so far. With a lilt he remembered from a life that had not been his. It almost made for him to forget the way his hand was still being held by the prince. 

Almost.

His gaze dropped to where their skin met, the word ‘gorgeous’ sparked at the front of his mind at the sight of purple. It sounded in his voice, and that time Shiro could taste the memory. Could feel it taking shape around him, recalling the feelings vividly. His hand tightened around Lotor’s. He could tell himself it was a reflex, the shock of it all, the beauty of the place, and the turmoil in his chest. Yet it wasn’t.

“Lotor-”

He could hardly stop himself from shaking, the only thing grounding him was the notion that he’d lived through so much already. Space, Galra, Voltron, heartache, and far too many wounds, way more than he’d care to count. Probably more than the stars above them, as over dramatic as it sounded. Perhaps something more suited to the alien in front of him, if he was remembering correctly. But this would not kill him, so he smiled through it.

“Tell me about these stars? Their names, age, their composition.” His thumb pressed on the back of the prince’s hand. “About you?”

“As a kit, one of the things I favoured the most was analysing stars and their systems.” Finally it was Lotor the one to let go, and move away, taking a seat on the rock beneath them. Shiro waited before following, allowing them both a moment to recover. “In this system, for example, the planets have many moons; this one, five, others far more. The two suns tell us this is not one system, but two merged together by gravity and its pull, however the rounded shape of the planets suggest it’s been quite some time since the collision. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Shiro sat and listened, nodding when it was required of him, and looking up at the stars every now and then as well. When he knew Lotor’s eyes moved to him at the very least. And when they didn’t, he stared at the alien, the prince, the Emperor. The man a ghost of himself had loved.

“When I was barely a kit, the stars drove my interests, and as time went by, they led my way. Kept me going. The need to know more, to learn it all.” And he could see it. Right where Lotor’s voice softened around the words of the universe, and his hands pointed at a star or planet, or whatever Shiro wasn’t looking at because the slender hand was much more enthralling- right there, where Lotor painted a memory of him as a half-breed boy staring out towards space the same way Shiro had. Right there, he could see it, clear as the stunning white of Lotor’s hair against the dark of his suit.

Lotor turned to him then, and he was quicker than Shiro, for he couldn’t look away. “Would that be enough, or are you secretly writing my biography?”

“I guess that’s good for now.” Shiro moved to rest on his back, letting the sky blanket him, letting the stars see the emotion written on his face. He smiled at Lotor, probably one of the first genuine smiles he’d given since the war had finally ended. “I’ll have to follow you around some more to write that biography, though. I hope you don’t mind that.”

And there was a blooming hope in Shiro’s chest, then, that Lotor wouldn’t mind it. That they could spend more time together, and he could learn all he needed to. About the prince, and space. About himself.

“The word kit is frankly adorable, did I ever tell you that?” The phrasing slipped Shiro’s lips with ease, and he didn’t dare correct it in case it broke the atmosphere. “You were probably a cute one too.”

A second turned to a whole minute, and Shiro didn’t dare to turn his head to look. Instead, he enjoyed the silence, and the soft wind blowing at the top of the cliff.

“For someone, perhaps.” Finally Lotor answered, the yearning in his voice so easy to hear, Shiro felt almost ashamed to have pulled at those memories. “To my people, I was little, not purple enough, furless. Nevermind the training and victories, the planets conquered, it was always short of enough.”

Unwilling to answer just for the sake of it, Shiro chanced a look to the side just in time to catch Lotor’s gaze on him, far closer than he’d imagined it would be. And only growing closer. 

He blinked, slowly, adjusting his sight to the proximity. Shiro stayed very still as the space between them became smaller. For a moment, his brain provided the word ‘prey.’ Borrowed memories of Lotor’s teeth biting into his neck, claiming Shiro, flowed to the front of his mind. 

But then their foreheads touched, and Shiro could feel Lotor’s warm breath so close to his. He stopped. 

His eyes fluttered closed, and his mind went blank. Shiro’s chest stopped moving, because his lungs decided breathing was out of place as well, and only his hand dared flex fingers against the stone underneath, just to keep himself grounded.

Much too soon Lotor pulled away, and even though Shiro remained unmoving, he could feel a part of him trailing after the man. He willed his eyes open, even when it meant staring at the tantalizing abyss of Lotor’s sky-blue gaze, with the remaining bits of the spilled soul between them. Shiro wanted to follow.

Reach out and touch at that memory of the wounded child- the charming kit- and hold it until it was better. Tell his own stories about how he too was a kid looking out to the stars, his ideas not well received at home, his dreams deemed pointless when he was born with a clock ticking backwards at an alarming speed.

A hand moved out instead, cupping Lotor’s cheek, thumb brushing over the bone where he knew the Altean mark was. Faint lilac, his mind recalled, almost white. He shifted to the side, propping himself up on an elbow, fingers running over to the pointed ear, and getting lost in the mass of lush white hair, pressing at the back of Lotor’s neck ever so softly.

Shiro inched closer, his eyes falling to the soft-looking purple lips for a moment, before moving up to Lotor’s eyes once again, searching for any sign that he should stop. That he shouldn’t get closer, until their breaths were mingled once more, and his heart tried to escape his ribs. And their lips touched.

There had been softness, for about four seconds their lips had just brushed, Shiro’s mind far too confused by the feelings coursing through his body to do much. Adopted memories blending with new ones, the way Lotor’s lips felt softer than he would’ve imagined even when he knew they were. When he’d thought about them before today, watching him from across the room, watching the way they moved around the words the Emperor directed at him.

And then he was pressed against the ground, the fingers in Lotor’s hair tightened, his free hand found the small of the alien’s back, bringing him closer. As close as he could.

It was exhilarating, and terrifying; the feeling of a new flame with the taste of a long lost one, that had Shiro breathing into the kiss, tongue coiling around Lotor’s to take as much of him as possible. To make sure these were his feelings now.

“There was no need for that,” Lotor said, and it took a whole breath in and out for Shiro to understand they were no longer kissing.

“I know.” His voice was hoarse, there was so much trapped in his throat, so much threatening to break loose from behind his ribs, from between his fingers. Shiro closed his eyes, willed himself to think only about the present, of the mouth on his jaw, and the weight on his chest.

He wanted to say he trusted Lotor, he really did. Even when it had all been a magnificent fuck up, and Shiro was trying to grasp at the drifting pieces of his selves from across the universe, he trusted the man. How could he not, when he felt the drum of Lotor’s heart against his own, as strong and turbulent as his, and the warmth of his skin seeping through the armor into his hands, into his very core.

“I wanted to, though.” His words were so genuine he surprised himself, breath stuck somewhere at the base of his throat. Shiro stared into Lotor’s eyes, fingers gathering the snowed hair together and away from his regal features.

“Don’t pull away.” He brushed the plea to the corner of Lotor’s lips. “Stay here, tell me more about that kit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed me, long, short, keyboard smashes, emojis, your choice!
> 
> Come chat with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory).


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